Chapter Text
Ivan’s steps were slow, hesitant, was this really worth it? Yes. The world was better without him. Andrew was safer with him dead. He deserved this, plain and simple.
He hesitated at the edge before taking a deep breath in. Then he…
He…
…
“Ivan? Hun? You okay?..”
Ivan’s eyes snapped open and he looked up at Andrew, who he was laying on. It was just a nightmare… Just a nightmare, “I-I… Y-Yeah, I’m fine… just a nightmare or something…”
“Oh dearest…” Andrew pulled Ivan closer and started running his fingers through the man’s hair, “Everything’s alright sweetheart…”
Ivan let out a relieved sigh and breathed in Andrew’s familiar scent, he smelled of mangos. He gently pressed his hand into Andrew’s, interlocking their fingers in a way that the golden bands on their ring fingers touched.
All a nightmare, I didn’t die, I didn’t try to kill myself… Andrew’s still here with me, he’s still alive, he still loves me…
The two stayed in each other’s arms for a moment more, Andrew silently offering support whilst Ivan thought about the nightmare and reassured himself it wasn’t real. After a few more moments, Andrew squeezed Ivan’s hand.
“Ivy, sweetheart, I know you’re comfy, and I hate to bother you, but Theo is gonna be mad if we don’t pick him up from school.” He gently brushed one of Ivan’s hair strands out of his face.
He grumbled softly and snuggled a bit closer to Andrew, “Can’t he just take the bus today?...”
Andrew sighed and patted Ivan on the head, “You know how he is, he comes home from bus rides breathing heavily like he just had a panic attack, you don’t want that to happen again, do you, love?”
Ivan huffed and shook his head, “No…” he stayed on Andrew’s chest for a few moments more before sitting up, “Fine… but try to be quick…”
Andrew smiled and pressed his cold lips to Ivan’s in a soft, loving kiss, Ivan leaned into the kiss before Andrew pulled away, “I will, idiot, keep an eye on Christie will you?” Andrew got up and patted Ivan’s head before going to the door and getting ready to leave.
Why were his lips so cold?... “I will, don’t worry…” Ivan stood up in turn and tied his hair back into a ponytail as Andrew left.
Ivan went to Christie’s room, the 2 year old looking up at him from her crib and reaching her small hands up to her father. Ivan smiled and picked her up, holding his precious daughter in his arms as he returned to the living room, sitting on the couch again and putting on some kid show Christie loved, keeping an eye on her as he wrote in his notebook.
After a moment Ivan looked towards Christie, making sure she was still there and still happy. He then turned to look at what she was watching to make sure it was still the right episode and not for some reason something inappropriate for a 2 year old. His gaze landed on the lamp next to the TV, it looked… weird? Was it always there?... Did the lampshade always look like that? The lightbulb must be acting up again. Ivan set his notebook down and pet Christie’s head, then went over to the lamp to fix the bulb. His head started spinning, his ears ringing, but for some reason he didn’t stop walking towards it, maybe he should sit down… He should go back to Christie… He’d fix the light later… But he couldn’t… He reached to tighten the lightbulb, his vision getting blurry… a rhythmic beeping among the ringing of his ears, quickening and sounding louder as he got closer and closer and closer….
Ivan woke up with a jolt, he would’ve sat up if he wasn’t so weak. A quick beeping sound resonated next to him, it slowed after a moment to be rhythmic. Ivan turned to look at the source of the sound; a heart monitor that was connected to him via sticker-like patches on his torso. Ivan groaned and tried to lift himself up, wincing as he moved the IV in his arm a bit too much. He also had a nasal cannula- he must’ve been here a while… Who even brought him here?... Why was he at the hospital?...
The door opened and a nurse came in, smiling, “I see you’re awake, Ivan. How are you feeling?...”
Ivan stayed silent for a moment, then turned as best as he could to face the nurse, “...Why am I here?”
The nurse furrowed her brow, “You don’t remember?” Ivan shook his head, “You tried to kill yourself and fell into a coma for 5 years…”
“W-What?...” Ivan paused, “N-No… that- doesn’t sound like me… why would I?...”
The nurse shook her head, “I don’t know, I’d ask you but it’s not my position to pry and it seems you’re having trouble remembering everything, I’m sorry.”
Ivan nodded, “It’s fine…” he then seemed to realise something, “A-Andrew! I-Is he?... D-Did he ever come?...”
“Who?” The nurse tilted her head, “I don’t think anyone named Andrew came and if he did I doubt he’s still here, it’s midnight after all.”
“Can you check? His full name is Andrew #########”
“I will once I’m done with you, but the name doesn’t ring a bell,” Ivan sighed as the nurse went about checking his vitals, drawing his blood, and making notes.
The next morning, Ivan’s mother came over, setting flowers in a vase on her son’s bedside, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?...” His mother’s voice was sweet and soft, yet sounded on edge.
“I’m feeling fine mom…” He hesitated, “I-is something wrong?”
His mother hesitated then sighed and gave something to Ivan, a photo, one of him and Andrew during one winter with a red heart drawn around Andrew in red sharpie, “My soul <3” was written in the same red. Ivan remembered that photo, it was in a drawer in his room, it meant a lot to him, and he for sure didn’t want his mother to find it… The heart monitor beeped a tad bit faster for a moment, Ivan cleared his throat.
“Uh… W-Where did you get this?” His voice was hesitant, worried…
“Your apartment, I could barely salvage anything but it was in some metal box that somehow survived the fire.” There’d been a fire?... “Ivan… did you just feel friendship towards that friend of yours?”
Ivan hesitated, his breath shaking, the heart monitor beeping way too quick for comfort, “U-Uhm- if I said… n-no… what would you uh… hypothetically do?...”
“...Just answer.” Ivan did not like the tone of her voice at all… nor the way she was gripping the sheets.
“...I-” Ivan sighed, “I don’t… see him as just a friend…”
His mother balled her hands into fists and avoided her son’s gaze, thinking, or holding back her anger, “No son of mine will love another man.” Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.
“W-What?...” Ivan shifted away from her a bit,
“I said…” She sat up and turned to face him, “No son of mine will love another man. Not ever.”
“T-Then what does that make me?!” Ivan spat back, not able to hold back his voice despite the pain from being in a coma for so long.
“Not my son! I don’t know where you’re going to go once you’re out of here, but certainly not to me! I don’t want to see your face until you’ve fixed yourself! Besides, I can already tell you’re going to therapy or something to fix whatever made you try to kill yourself, maybe that’ll get it out of your system.”
“I… you’re joking right?...” He paused, checking his mother’s face, “R-Right? M-Mom?...”
She didn’t answer for a moment and Ivan could tell she wasn’t joking, ”Take the flowers. Don’t call me again until you’ve fixed yourself. Oh, and that friend of your’s? He doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. He hates you. I’m not just mad that you're gay, I’m disappointed in your actions.” She turned on her heel and left, leaving the flowers and the photo with Ivan.
“M-MOM! W-WAIT- PLEASE- W-WHAT DID I DO?!- W-Why does Andrew hate me?...” He had to fight back tears, she didn’t stop to explain, just left him alone in the hospital bed.
Ivan curled up in the bed, tears welling up in his eyes. What did he do to Andrew? How long has it been? Why did he try to kill himself? What was wrong with him?!
He stayed quiet for a few moments before carefully maneuvering to hoist himself up on his forearms, thinking. He wanted to see Andrew, but according to his mother, he didn’t want to see Ivan. He wanted to write, but he didn’t have a pen or paper. Maybe he could sleep, yeah, sleep was good, especially after waking up from a coma… He sighed and let himself fall back down onto the mattress, regretting it as his IV moved a bit and hurt like hell, causing him to let out a soft hiss of pain. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, then turned to his side, trying to calm his nerves, after a few moments his mind drifted away and he fell asleep.
Blood was dripping off the sharp tip of the axe, pulled out of Andrew’s skull. Ivan let it fall at his feet, he felt like he wanted to cry as he stared at the limp form of his precious Andrew, a deep gash piercing the man’s skull, the blood was pooling out too much for the sight to be bearable. Ivan’s hands were stained with blood, but it wasn’t his own. He reached out, his hands shaking as he cupped Andrew’s cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over it.
“Andrew… who did this to you…” His voice was shaky as his thumb moved to trace Andrew’s lips.
Something told him it was his fault, and he hated that feeling, he sighed, shifting closer to his precious Andrew, sitting on the armrest of the throne-esque structure the corpse was sat upon.
“I’m sorry Andrew…” He sighed as he leaned on Andrew’s cold shoulder, “I love you so so much… I don’t know what I did… I don’t remember what I did… but I’m so sorry for whatever it is… If I can’t apologize in the real world… Then at least I’ll apologize to you in my dreams… please forgive me…” Ivan buried his face into the crook of Andrew’s neck, tears welling up again, he stayed there for what felt like an eternity, enjoying the feeling of Andrew’s skin against his own, even if he was dead, even if this was a dream.
At some point, he’d settled against the developper’s lap, curling up against Andrew’s comforting figure, even if it missed the life in it. His eyes closed as his body shook softly with tears, only opening them when a shadow loomed over him and Andrew, blocking the light overhead. It was a burnt up figure with no skin, only black and darkened muscles, one could barely recognize it as human, but Ivan knew deep down who this was meant to be.
“Father… I-”
“Shut it.” interrupted the corpse, “Your mother was right, you’re not her son, nor are you mine. You’re a pathetic excuse for a man, seeking validation within a corpse of someone long dead… chasing after one who does not want you… you really are a tumour. Your actions further prove that.”
“WHAT ACTIONS?!” Ivan’s voice cracked as he yelled, “YOU AND MOTHER BOTH MENTIONED MY ‘TERRIBLE ACTIONS’ OR WHATEVER AND YOU DON’T EXPLAIN! WHAT DID I DO?! WHAT MAKES ME SUCH A SHITTY PERSON IN YOUR EYES?!”
The charred corpse stared at Ivan’s pathetic form, still curled against Andrew, “You really want to know? To remember what you did?” Ivan nodded, “Fine.”
The corpse of his father approached one of its charred fingers to touch Ivan’s forehead, causing the writer to instinctively close his eyes. When he opened them he found himself in his apartment, Andrew sitting on the floor in front of him, breathing heavily, eyes wide in fear.
Andrew scrambled up and went to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. Ivan ran over to the door, wishing to simply knock softly to get Andrew’s attention, but he ended up banging loudly, his body seeming to move on instinct as he tried the handle before pounding on the door again. He opened his mouth to apologize for the noise, explain he didn’t know what just happened, but his words weren’t his own.
“ANDREW!” he yelled, “OPEN THE DAMN DOOR RIGHT FUCKING NOW OR I SWEAR I’LL BREAK IT DOWN!”
Ivan could faintly hear soft sobs and whimpers from behind the door. He brought a hand to his cheek, it stung… had Andrew… slapped him?... He looked down at his hands, his knuckles were bloody. Ivan turned to look at the kitchen, there was a mix of burnt and uncooked ingredients. He could faintly recall Andrew’s scared face, he swore he saw a nosebleed… something clicked in his mind.
Oh…
He ruined dinner…
So I beat him up…
Then he slapped me…
If he hadn’t run away… what would I have done to him?...
Ivan sighed and looked around the apartment, he spotted thin blankets on the floor along with a cheap pillow… Had Andrew been sleeping on the floor instead of the couch? Ivan thought for a moment before recalling a conversation, right, he got pissed that Andrew slept on the couch since he took up the whole space for the whole day… so he kicked him off…
His actions… what made his family disappointed… it was that he had abused the one he loved… but… why would he?... What… What happened to make him such a bad person? Not even he knew…
Ivan reached to his face and found he was crying again, he didn’t care though as he sat on the floor and curled up there, letting himself cry in his dreams rather than break down while awake.